


Gonna make this place your home

by jacksbits (fragilehuge)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hockey, Kid Fic, M/M, but it's like cute and sappy and junk so hopefully y'all will enjoy it anyway lol, it's actually technically 'aquiring a baby' fic and only includes One Scene with the actual baby, so don't get your hopes up too much, there's a little angst too bc it's jack pov lolol, well... sort of??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 12:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12770640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilehuge/pseuds/jacksbits
Summary: It's not like they haven't talked about it.//Jack and Bitty adopt a baby.





	Gonna make this place your home

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the latest gift ever for [katrina-quotes](http://katrina-quotes.tumblr.com), who won a giveaway I hosted and requested kidfic! I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK. It turns out I find kidfic extremely difficult to write??? (And this is actually mostly pre-kidfic, lol.) But I hope you like it anyway! :')
> 
> Thank you so much to [rhysiana](http://rhysiana.tumblr.com/) for reading through this, [wheeloffortune-design](http://wheeloffortune-design.tumblr.com/) for the French help, and [yoursummerfrost](http://yoursummerfrost.tumblr.com) for the [title inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoRkntoHkIE). You're all stars. ♥

It's not like they haven't talked about it. They have. Of course they have—at first, only during whispered conversations in the dark, _have you ever thought about…?_ but later, plainly and sincerely: _I want to have kids someday. I’d want to raise them with you_.

So even before they got married, Jack knew that they’d eventually start a family together. He just. He’d never really thought about _when._ He was always so busy with hockey, and Bitty was so busy running his YouTube channel and trying to find a better job (for the first year after graduation, he was working at a _grocery store_ , in the deli—not even the bakery!—of all things).

Even after Bitty moved to Providence, it seemed like it was hard enough just to find time to be together. It only got worse when Jack came out; Bitty’s vlog predictably skyrocketed in popularity once he was publicly linked to Jack, taking his ad revenue from a nice side job to… something worth seriously thinking about. And then they were getting married a year later, and Bitty was going crazy testing recipes for the cookbook, and Jack was _still_ always busy with hockey, and. Well. Jack honestly hadn’t even considered bringing a kid into all of that. Their lives were already crazy enough. Jack’s primary concerns were keeping his schedule free for date night and making sure he was eating enough. (Sometimes it was just so hard to eat enough while he was training. Like he needed an extra hour or two a day just to shovel fuel into his engine.)

But then one evening in December, Bitty says, “So, my baby cousin is pregnant.”

Jack is sitting on the couch, reading. Hockey season is in full swing; he’s partway through the 30 minutes of reading time he allows himself before his 10pm bedtime. The mere fact that Bitty is interrupting means it’s important.

“Oh, god. Krysta?” Jack closes the book and sets it on the coffee table, looking up at Bitty. “Isn’t she seventeen?” She’s the youngest of Bitty’s cousins.

“Yeah,” Bitty says. “I just got off the phone with Mama.”

Jack’s chest has gone tight with concern. He likes Krysta; she plays soccer and talks constantly about anime whenever Jack is around. She’s a good kid. There’s no way this is going to be easy for her.

“Yeah,” Bitty says. “For a while, apparently. They’ve been keeping it quiet. She plans to have the baby and put it up for adoption.”

Jack frowns. “That’s going to be hard.”

“Yeah,” Bitty says. He sits down heavily next to Jack on the couch. “Mama, um.”

He doesn’t go on.

“Yeah?” Jack prompts.

“She wondered if we—might be interested.”

The whole world seems to go very quiet and very still. Bitty’s words hang in the air like a physical presence.

“Are we?” Jack can barely hear his own voice.

Bitty picks up Jack’s hand. His fingers are so warm. His skin is always so warm when he touches Jack. Good circulation, or maybe just something unique to Bitty. Jack doesn’t know.

“It’s a girl, honey,” Bitty says. “Just imagine. A baby girl.”

Jack is too overwhelmed to know what to say, so he just leans forward, presses his forehead against Bitty’s, and shuts his eyes.

“Wow,” he whispers, eventually. “This wasn’t how I expected my evening to go.”

“Me either,” Bitty says. “If we adopt her, she’ll still be with the family, you know? She can know her mama.”

“Yeah,” Jack manages.

“Apparently Krysta and her parents have been talking about it a lot. They didn’t want to mention it to us until they were sure, you know? In case we—” Bitty cuts himself off. Jack gets it. He can hardly think the words, much less say them.

_In case we wanted to adopt her._

“Do you think we’re ready?” Jack asks. He honestly doesn’t know if he is. Bitty is going to be amazing, but what if Jack isn’t a good dad? What if he can’t be there for her? Hockey already takes up so much time, and Jack is far away from retirement.

Bitty just laughs. “Who’s ever ready?”

It’s a fair point. Jack blinks. He stares into Bitty’s brown, brown eyes from an inch away.

“When’s the due date?” he asks.

“That’s the thing.” Bitty’s mouth twists into a frown. “April.”

That makes Jack sit back. “Oh, god, that’s… four months from now. What if I’m in the playoffs?”

“I know. It’d be a lot all at once.” Bitty rubs his thumb slowly over the back of Jack’s hand, back and forth and back and forth. It soothes his automatic panic— _wrong time, wrong time_ —enough that he can actually think it through. The Falcs might not even get to the playoffs. And the season’s over in June, no matter what. He’d have all summer with her. It’s as much free time as Jack ever gets at one time.

“You’re thinking about the off season, right?” Bitty asks, after a moment. “I thought about that too.”

“It’s going to be hard once I’m playing again,” Jack says. October. She’d only be, what, seven months old? And Jack would have to leave her again. Like he’ll have to do every year. Like he _already does_ to Bitty. Like he—No. Jack can feel the spiral coming. He lets out a deep, slow breath instead.

He says, “You know how hard it gets during the season already, just with us.”

“Yeah,” Bitty says. “I know. I know. I want to do it, though.”

The words are terrifying—the idea is _terrifying—_ but the soft touch of Bitty’s fingers makes Jack feel as safe and grounded as anything ever has.

Jack has known what he wanted from the moment Bitty brought it up, anyway.

He says, “Me too.”

-

The idea of it—a baby, their baby, _a little girl_ —is so incredible that it’s nearly overwhelming.

The logistics, on the other hand, are a nightmare _._

“Normally people have _nine months_ to deal with all of this,” Bitty says, over Skype, in January. “And _two people_ to do it.”

“I know, Bits,” Jack says. He’s sitting on a hotel bed in Tampa. He won’t be back in Providence for two days.

Bitty has spearheaded the effort to convert the guest bedroom into a nursery—repainting and buying furniture and assembling it all—and Jack feels guilty that he hasn’t been able to help more. They knew it’d be like this, though. Running a social media empire offers a lot more flexibility than playing a professional sport does. And the Falcs are doing well this season. They’ll probably make the playoffs.

Krysta’s due date is April 17th. The first round of the playoffs begins on April 13th.

Jack doesn’t know how he feels about that. He doesn’t want to think about it.

He says, “I’m sorry I can’t be there with you.”

Bitty sighs heavily. “I know, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated by this stupid, _awful_ crib _._ I literally don’t understand what this picture is telling me to do.”

Jack bites back a snicker. Bitty’s cheeks are flushed pink with annoyance, his hair curling with sweat.

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you,” he says. “Maybe put it away for now and work on it tomorrow?”

“Useless. Totally useless.” Bitty shakes his head. “Why did I even call you?”

“I think it’s because you love me or something,” Jack says.

Bitty looks fond. “Weird,” he says. “I have no clue why.”

Jack pretends to think it over. “I’d guess it’s something to do with unique appeal of hockey butts.”

Bitty laughs, managing, “So, are you saying that you’re a huge ass?” and that sets Jack off, too.

After a minute, though, Bitty says, “Okay, honey, I think it’s time for me to fight with the furniture some more, and for you to go to bed.”

“Alright, Bits,” Jack says, stretching his arms over his head. It’s 10:15, and they have a game tomorrow, so Bitty is definitely right. “It was good to talk to you. Glad you called.” After all this time, they don’t bother to Skype every night that they’re apart, but it’s always good to talk to Bitty before a game.

“Of course, baby,” Bitty says. “You kill ’em tomorrow if they try to pick a fight, you hear?”

“Heh. I think Tater’s got that covered,” Jack says. “But I’ll do my best. Night, Bits.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Bitty says, before he ends the call. Jack puts his laptop away and shuts his eyes. Only a few more months of this.

-

Jack manages to get permission to fly to Georgia toward the end of the season, right before a string of away games. He has to be back at the airport that night for a 10:30 flight to Chicago, but Bitty’s going to stay in the area for two weeks. He’ll spend some time with Krysta and her family, and then a week at home with his parents.

Jack’s a little jealous to miss it. He hates that one day is the best he can do, but at least he’ll get to see Krysta in person and meet her doctor before the birth. It’s better than nothing.

They rent a car at the airport. Bitty drives; Jack tries to read his book. It’s taking forever to get through it—longer than usual—but he thinks he might be able to finish it tonight on the plane. Jack doesn’t know how much reading he’s going to get done, the rest of the year. Probably not much.

That’s okay, though. He’s going to be doing more important things.

Forty-five minutes later, they’re parking the car in front of Krysta’s parents’ house in the suburbs when Krysta comes out barefoot in the front yard. She’s waving.

The first thing Jack thinks is that Krysta’s _huge._ He isn’t sure why he’s surprised: she’s seven months pregnant. They’ve seen recent pictures of her, even. She snapchats Bitty and Jack all the time.

It’s just… in real life, it’s something else. His mental image of Krysta is still partly of her at 15, when Jack first met her. But enormously pregnant, barefoot in her front yard, Krysta looks more like a grown woman than he’s ever seen her. It’s weird.

Jack gets out of the car first, and when he gets to her he wraps her up in an awkward hug, bending sharply at the waist to get around her belly.

“I have exciting news,” she says, after Bitty’s hugged her, too. “I’ve come up with a list of names.”

He and Bitty had decided weeks ago that they were going to let Krysta choose a name, but she insisted that she wanted their opinions. This was the compromise.

Jack’s heart speeds up a little. God. With everything else to think about, he hadn’t really thought much about the _name._ It’d been like something on a check list, _tell Krysta she gets to choose the name_ , forgotten about once it was crossed off.

Krysta laughs loudly, practically a cackle, and Jack realizes that Bitty’s stunned expression is probably a twin to his own.

“You’ll catch flies,” she says, “with your mouths open like that. Let’s go inside so I can sit down, at least.”

That snaps them both out of it.

“Yes, yes, of course—” Bitty’s saying, ushering her inside with a hand on her back, like it’s not her own house they’re going into.

Once they’re sitting around the kitchen table, a glass of iced tea before each of them, Krysta leans back.

“So,” she says. “I was thinking, _Naruto_.”

Bitty looks dismayed.

Jack remembers Krysta telling him about this anime. He manages, “Isn’t—Naruto—a boy’s name?”

“Yes,” Krysta says. “But, I thought, you know, what year is it, right? Gender is a social construct.”

“Well—that’s true—” Bitty’s voice is strained.

Krysta’s lip twitches.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Bitty cries, at the same time Jack says, “ _Krysta_.”

“I should have recorded that,” she says, her smirk getting bigger by the second. “I can’t believe you guys actually _believed_ —” She’s abruptly laughing too hard to go on.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re gullible,” Jack says, affecting his least amused tone. Even he can admit that was pretty good, though. He _likes_ Krysta.

“Tell us the real names,” Bitty says.

Krysta visibly tries to get ahold of herself. “Okay. Okay. Seriously, tell me if you don’t—I mean, it’s _your_ kid, you know?” She lets out a breath. “I think it was really sweet of you to let me have a say, because I’m—well, I’m not sure I deserve… Anyway. Y’all get veto power, no matter what, okay?”

Bitty takes her hand. “Honey,” he says, and then stops, mouth twisting. Finally, he says, “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing an amazing job.”

Krysta looks away, but she doesn’t take back her hand. “Stop it, cuz. You’re gonna make me cry in front of Jack.”

“He cries in front of me all the time,” Jack confides, leaning close. “Don’t worry about it.”

“If _anyone_ is the one who cries the most, Mr. Zimmermann, it is absolutely _you_ ,” Bitty says, affronted, pulling his hand away from Kyrsta to point an accusing finger at Jack.

Jack just shrugs a shoulder, unconcerned. “That’s probably true.” He looks at Krysta. “Yesterday, Bitty was showing me some of the baby clothes he bought. They’re very cute.”

“There were actually tears,” Bitty says. “Then he set me off. You should have seen us, Krysta, clutching each other and crying because the shoes I bought were so small.”

Krysta shakes her head. “You two are ridiculous.” She looks fond. “You’re gonna be great dads, though. But okay. You wanna hear ’em?”

Bitty reaches over to take Jack’s hand. Jack squeezes back.

“So—” Krysta starts. “I have like, several ideas? I’m just gonna list a bunch. So, maybe… Camille—Camilla?”

“I, uh, dated a Camilla,” Jack says. He frowns. “Sort of.”

Bitty pats the back of Jack’s hand, a trifle condescendingly. Jack is kind of offended, honestly. He tries to pull his hand away, but Bitty just tightens his grip.

“Let me hold your hand, honey,” Bitty says, with just the slightest undercurrent of a chirp. “This is an important moment.”

Krysta just laughs at them. “Okay, maybe not Camilla, then. What about Isabella? Or Stella. Alexandra, maybe An—”

“Oh,” says Bitty, hand spasming around Jack’s. At the same time, Jack says, “Wait.”

Jack thinks, _ma petite étoile._

“Alexandra?” Krysta asks.

“No, uh…” Bitty looks at Jack. “Which one did you like?”

Jack wants to know Bitty’s answer to the same question.

“Stella,” he says. “Was that the one—”

“ _Yes_ ,” says Bitty. He’s gone suddenly misty-eyed. “Oh, _Jack_.”

Jack puts his other hand over Bitty’s. He only just barely resists the urge to brush a kiss over Bitty’s knuckles. Krysta’s there. He probably should hold back on the PDA, a little. He doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

Krysta just looks fond and kind of exasperated, though. “So, it’s Stella, then?”

“We—we should probably—” Bitty pulls his hand out of Jack’s grasp so he can wipe at his eyes. “Take a couple of days to… just to be sure. You know. Before we tell everyone.”

Jack smiles. Bitty _definitely_ cries the most. He’s gonna chirp him so much about this later.

But that can wait.

For now, Jack just says, “Yeah. It’s gonna be Stella.”

-

They make the playoffs.

Jack’s going to miss the birth.

“Oh, honey,” Bitty says, the moment Jack gets in the door to their apartment in Providence. Tonight they’d won the game that meant they qualified. Some of the guys had gone out to celebrate afterward, but Jack had just gone straight home.

Bitty is just staring up at him. Jack leans down and wraps his arms around him.

What had Bitty said all those months ago? _It’s going to be a lot all at once._ It is. It is.

“I know it’s not going to make a difference in the long run,” Jack says into Bitty’s neck. “None of it. Not even being in the playoffs.”

“Nonsense,” Bitty says. He’s trying to be playful, Jack can tell, but his voice is tight. “You might win your second Cup.”

Jack lets out a little sob, face pressed against Bitty’s skin. Sure, he might.

He probably won’t, though. He’s probably going to miss his daughter’s birth for nothing. Just for _hockey._

“It’s always going to be like this,” Jack says. “I’m always going to have to put hockey first.”

“It’s just one moment out of a million,” Bitty says, stroking a hand down Jack’s back. “You’re going to love her so much it’s not even funny. She won’t even remember her birth.”

“Neither will _I_ ,” Jack moans.

And then he almost laughs. As miserable as he is, that felt slightly over the top. He pulls away from Bitty a little, frowning. “That was kind of, uh…”

Bitty’s expression is complicated, but he manages a weird kind of smile. “It was a little melodramatic, honey.”

Just like that, it’s easy again. Jack lets himself laugh.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m done. Let’s go to bed.”

“Of course, darling,” Bitty says, and takes his hand.

-

Jack has a game the night that Krysta goes into labor. It’s game three of the first round of the playoffs, and they’re tied against the Capitals with one win each.

Krysta had gone to the hospital late that afternoon—with Bitty and both sets of their parents—but there was no way to know exactly when she’d give birth. The Falcs are up after the first period 2-0, and Jack goes straight to his phone. He has three texts from Bitty, the last one just a couple of minutes old.

_no baby yet. krysta’s 6 cm. soon?_

_could be 30 min could be 2 hours say docs._

_you better score a goal for stella._

Jack types, _What, the one I got already wasn’t good enough?_

Bitty’s response is almost immediate. _that one was for me._

Jack grins as he tucks his phone away, heading back toward the ice. He can manage another goal tonight, can’t he?

The Capitals manage to score in the second period, though, and Jack can’t get anything in. He’s almost too distracted to worry about it. They’re still ahead, and all Jack wants is to talk to Bitty.

When he gets to his phone, though, he doesn’t have any new texts. He types, _?????_

_not yet_

Jack sighs. Not yet. Well, that’s okay.

 _Still working on that goal,_ he types.

Bitty replies, _go get em baby_

Jack puts his phone away after that, doing his best to shake off his nervous energy or at least channel it into something productive. It’s time to focus again. He needs to end this game in regulation.

When it’s over, he just might be a dad.

-

Jack scores 5 minutes into the third period, and even though the Caps manage one more, they can’t get two, and so the Falcs win the game in regulation after all.

He’s not a dad yet, though.

“No, no, no, not yet,” Bitty says, on the other end of the phone. Jack had tripped his way into the locker room the moment he was able, ripping off his gloves so that he could grab his phone and dial Bitty’s number.

“I was sure I was gonna miss it,” Jack says.

“We’re—close?” Bitty sounds frazzled, breathless, overwhelmed. In the background, Krysta is shouting at someone. “Here, uh, maybe we can Facetime—?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack says, fiddling with his phone until Bitty’s flushed face appears on the screen.

He smiles at Jack. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Jack says. In the grainy picture, he can see that Bitty’s in the hospital room. The camera flips around, and there’s Krysta, lying back on the bed, legs up in the stirrups. Her mom is standing beside the bed, holding her hand. Krysta looks even sweatier than Jack is, and he just played an entire hockey game.

“Jack,” Krysta grunts, when Bitty brings the phone closer to her face. “Glad you could make it.” She grimaces at the camera, probably an attempt at a smile. Jack just grins at her.

“Oh, is there baby?” Tater asks, leaning over Jack’s shoulder to catch a look at his phone.

“ _Not yet!_ ” Krysta snaps. “God, can everyone just give me a _break_ already!?”

“Ah—” Tater looks sort of flustered, jumping away from Jack like he’s afraid of the phone. It’s a reasonable reaction; Krysta’s voice is scary. “Sorry, sorry! Take time, of course. Sorry.”

Jack gives him an apologetic smile, but he hurries out of the locker room to avoid further investigation from his teammates. Jack is gross, he’s still in his pads, and he needs a shower, but there’s no way he’s going to bother with changing right now. He heads for the little conference room back by the coaching offices instead, figuring he won’t be bothered there.

He ends up propping his phone up on the table and settling in to wait. After a minute, Krysta moans, and Bitty turns the camera back to his face. “This has been about all we’ve been doing, the past couple hours.”

Jack sinks down into a chair. “I’ll stay with you guys for as long as it takes.”  He can’t believe he’s going to become a dad today. It feels like a miracle.

“Jack,” Bitty says, voice a little choked up.

Jack’s eyes feel moist, too. He’s about to say something sappy like, “ _Bitty_ ,” when Krysta’s voice interrupts him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s all very touching, but _I’m_ the one who’s pushing a child out of my body tonight, so can you can it?”

The camera jumps around as Bitty rushes over to hold her other hand, and Jack laughs so hard there really are tears in his eyes.

-

Stella Anne Zimmermann-Bittle is born at 1:56am on April 14th, 2021.

It’s the best moment of Jack’s life, including the first time he kissed Bitty.

(That’s the second best moment of Jack’s life.)

(His first Cup ranks third.)

It’s not all great, though. He can’t immediately go see her, because he’s _still in the playoffs._

In the week after his daughter is born, they lose a game and win two more, and then the Falcs are moving on to the second round. Jack never thought he’d feel conflicted about having to play hockey, but here he is. Fatherhood has already completely turned his life upside down.

His coaches actually give him official permission to fly back to Georgia to meet his daughter on an off day, but Jack won’t let himself go. It’ll be a distraction, and he’s afraid if he sees her he’s not going to be able to get back on a plane and fly away again.

He just needs to focus. It’s only a few more weeks, at most. Just a few more games.

If they win, he can bring the Cup home for his daughter. If they don’t, well… that only means he gets to see her sooner.

In Jack’s mind, it’s a win-win situation.

Well, it’s almost a win-win situation. He’s still going _crazy_ in the meantime.

-

Second round of the playoffs is a blur of hockey and practice and Skype and Bitty and Stella and trying to get enough sleep on top of it all.

Bitty and Stella are staying at his parent’s house in Madison. Jack plans to fly down after the Falcs get eliminated (Bitty keeps saying, “When you win the cup,” but Jack isn’t so confident), and then the three of them will fly back to Providence together. Krysta lives in Covington, which is close enough that she likes to drop by and laugh at Bitty while he changes diapers. She’ll play with Stella until she gets fussy and starts crying, and then Krysta always grins and says, “Aaaaand, that’s my cue to leave. I love that I can say that.”

Apparently, she’s spent most of her time in Madison with her feet up on the coffee table, gossiping with Suzanne and complaining that her favorite maternity dresses don’t fit right anymore. Jack is glad that it sounds like she’s doing okay. Part of him worried it would be hard for her, to give up a baby she’d carried for nine months, but the way Bitty tells it, she’s relishing the fact that she doesn’t have to be a mom at seventeen. She still wants to be a part of Stella’s life, but she wants to be the cool aunt to Bitty and Jack’s responsible, serious parents. It sounds like it’s working. Jack wishes he could be there with all of them.

Krysta’s a good kid. He’s a little jealous that Bitty gets to spend so much time with her.

He doesn’t think ‘jealous’ is the right word for how he feels about Bitty getting to spend time with their daughter, though. It’s something more crushing than jealousy, something gnawing and empty and hungry. Jack looks at Stella on his laptop screen and all he can think about is running the pad of his thumb over her tiny fingernails. Even in two weeks, she’s grown so much. The only way Jack can handle the fact that he’s missing it is by throwing himself completely into hockey.

Before Jack knows it, though, they’re one game away from elimination. The second round of the playoffs has been close. They’ve won two games, but before he knows it the Flyers have won three. Their next game is in Philly, where the Flyers will have home ice advantage.

Jack doesn’t know how to feel about that. He’s caught between a desire to get home and a desire to prove himself. The Falcs are a young team, and just making the playoffs and getting to the second round is meaningful. But a win against an established expansion team like the Flyers… Well, it would mean a lot. He doesn’t want anyone to say they gave up easy. He doesn’t want anyone to say he threw the game to go see his daughter.

Before the game, one of the assistant coaches pulls him aside in the locker room.

“You’ve been playing well,” Daniels says. He chews on the end of his pen, clearly thinking about how he wants to put it. “But I know this has been a challenge for you.”

“I’m focused,” Jack says. “Put me in. I’m here to play hockey.”

Daniels gives him a long look. Finally, he says, “You’re a team player, Zimmermann. Don’t think it hasn’t been noticed. You were captain of your college team, weren’t you?”

Jack’s heart pounds in his chest. Daniels knows damn well that Jack was. He manages to nod, and Daniels nods back.

“The role suits you,” he says. He pats Jack on the shoulder. “Stay focused tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” Jack says.

He’s focused.

-

That night, Jack puts his head down and plays hockey. He doesn’t think about anything but getting the puck in the net. Nothing happens in the first period, but Jack doesn’t let it rattle him. They’re keeping it together on the ice, their defense is strong, they’re making shots. They’ll get something in eventually.

During the second period, the Flyers score once, and then again, but Jack still doesn’t let it rattle him. Sure, the Falcs haven’t gotten anything in yet, but they can come back from this. They’ve come back from worse, and they’re going to come back from this, too.

Before he knows it, the time runs out and they’re back in the locker room for fifteen minutes of downtime before third period.

Poots pats him on the shoulder. “You excited that you might go home tonight?”

Jack blinks at him. “We’re not going home tonight. There’s one more period.”

Poots gives Jack a look somewhere between bewildered and fond. “You really are a hockey robot, aren’t you?”

Jack feels a twinge somewhere, but he doesn’t let it get to him. Poots doesn’t mean anything by it. “I’m just focused,” Jack says. “We’ve got a game to win tonight.”

That makes Poots grin at him. “Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me,” he says. “We’ve got this.”

-

Fifteen minutes into the third period, Jack gets a beautiful wrister into the net. Tater slams into him an instant after it happens, and Jack hears himself saying, “One more, just one more, Tater, Tater—”

“Yes, yes, Zimmboni, yes, one more.”

As they get ready for the face-off, Jack knows that they can do it. They’ve been playing offensively this period; they’ve made as least three times as many shots-on-goal as the Flyers; they’re keeping their defense together. They just need to get one more puck in, and then it’ll go into overtime, and then they just need to get one more puck in, and then they’ll live to fight another day. They can do it. Jack knows they can.

He gets the puck to Tater after the face-off and Tater gets it back to him, and there are guys everywhere but Jack is a man on a mission. He’s skating and he’s skating and he’s _focused._ The Flyers keep intercepting their passes, but the Falcs keep getting the puck right back. It’s only a matter of time, Jack knows, before they get a shot lined up, before they get something in. The Flyers can’t keep this up forever, and Jack can feel the shot coming, they’ve got Snowy on the bench, an empty net with six guys on the ice, and they all want it so badly, they’re all completely focused, all of them are thinking about getting that puck into the back of the net, and Jack knows, he knows it’s only a matter of time before—

A horn blares.

For a moment, Jack thinks they’ve scored. Jack is staring at the net and trying to figure out when the puck went in when he realizes that there are dozens of Flyers piling onto their goalie.

That was the horn for end of the period.

It’s over.

The Flyers won the game.

Someone’s hand lands on Jack’s shoulder, and he finds himself being steered back toward the bench.

“Sorry, man,” Thirdy says. “You were amazing out there. It just wasn’t enough.”

Jack doesn’t know how to make this throat work. He was so sure they were going to do it that he can’t quite process the fact that they didn’t. They’re out of the playoffs; he’s going home. The idea seems meaningless to him, something impossible and unattainable, and time slips past him weirdly until suddenly they’re all lining up on the ice for handshakes. Jack still feels dazed.

He shakes hands with all of the Flyers.

The coaches want him to do press on the ice.

“Yes, alright,” Jack says, trying to shake off his disorientation.

There’s a camera in his face, a man holding a microphone.

“We know you recently became a father,” the guy says. Jack doesn’t understand why that’s relevant, but the guy goes on. “You must be disappointed to get eliminated tonight, but were you thinking about how close you were to seeing your daughter while you were out on the ice tonight?”

Jack blinks. It feels like a deeply inappropriate question. It probably still wouldn’t be a good idea to just turn around and walk away from this guy with the cameras rolling, though.

Jack says, “I can honestly say I was just thinking about hockey.”

“But was it hard to keep focus tonight, with so much on the line?”

“No,” says Jack. “It wasn’t hard. We played the best hockey we had in us out there tonight. Sometimes it’s just not enough.”

“Okay,” the guys says. “I’ll let you go, you must want to go get back to your family.”

Something blossoms in Jack’s chest. It’s like the world cracks open a little, the light finally getting in. _His family._

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah.”

-

When Jack gets back to the locker room, the first thing he does is call Bitty.

“I already bought your tickets,” Bitty says. “Just go to the airport. Your flight leaves in three hours. Hour layover in D.C. Sorry. It was the best I could do on such short notice.”

“I love you,” Jack says. He can’t think of anything else to say.

Bitty laughs. “I know, baby. I’ll text you your boarding pass. See you soon.”

-

Jack gets on a plane.

He gets off a plane.

He gets on a plane again.

When he finally gets off for good in Atlanta, it’s practically the middle of the night—especially for Jack, who’s usually asleep by 10:30—but he gets in a car and drives to Madison.

He’s exhausted, but too hopped up on adrenaline to be sleepy.

He’s getting back to his family.

The moment his car pulls up outside Bitty’s parents’ place, Bitty is outside. For a second, Jack is looking for Stella in his arms, but it’s 1:43 in the morning. Obviously it’s just Bitty by himself.

“You have to be quiet,” Bitty says, whispering across the lawn as Jack strides toward him. “She’s asleep.”

“Okay,” Jack says, and stops for a moment to gather Bitty into his arms.

Bitty squeezes back, then pulls away just enough to tilt his head up for a kiss.

“Hi,” Jack whispers, a second later. “Missed you.”

Bitty beams. “Me too. Want to go inside?”

“Yes,” Jack says, and doesn’t move.

Bitty tilts his head. “Alright?”

The bulb in the porch light is burned out, and the street lamps aren’t very close together out here in the middle of nowhere. It’s so dark that Jack can barely see Bitty’s face. He’s grateful that Bitty probably can’t see his own.

“What if she doesn’t… bond with me?” Jack asks, just a breath, a whisper. He hates himself for saying it aloud but he can’t help it. He’s been not-thinking it for months. “I’ve been gone for—for forever, basically. From Stella’s perspective, forever.”

Bitty rubs Jack’s back, up-and-down, up-and-down. “Sweetie, she’s seen you on Skype. I’ll bet she recognizes your voice. She’s going to love you. ”

“But she _already_ loves you,” Jack says. “What if I can’t catch up?”

Bitty snorts, then immediately adds, “Sorry. I know this is serious. It’s just—Jack, she’s an infant. She hates everything except formula and shiny things she hasn’t seen before.”

Jack lets himself laugh quietly, mostly at himself. Bitty’s hands are still rubbing at his back. “What about shiny things she’s already seen?”

“Boring. She hates it. How dare I show her such garbage.”

Jack laughs again. “Yeah?”

“Yes. You’ll be fine. I promise you only missed a lot of crying and smelly diapers and utter relief when she finally sleeps. And there’s going to be plenty more of that.”

Jack lets out a slow breath. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’m ready to go inside.”

Bitty steps in for a last hug and then takes Jack's hand and leads him into the house. 

“We have her set up in the guest room,” Bitty whispers. “It's been weird sleeping in there with my room just down the hall. But I didn't want to have to move her once you got here and she was used to things in my room.”

Jack suppresses a smile. “I appreciate not having to share your twin.”

Bitty snickers. “Me, too. Your ass would take up half the bed.”

Jack snorts. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

As they start up the stairs, Bitty says, “Now, she's probably still asleep, so I don't know if you should try to hold her or not right now…”

He sounds apologetic, but Jack isn’t surprised. He’d already figured as much. “No. It's okay. I just... I just want to look at her. That should be okay, right?”

“Of course that'll be okay, baby."

Then suddenly they're in front of the door. It's closed. Jack takes a breath. “Right,” he says to himself, quietly. “ _Quand faut y aller, faut y aller…_ ”

Bitty tips his head, curious. He clearly doesn’t know that expression. Jack explains, “Just. Here goes nothing.”

Bitty gives him an encouraging smile, and Jack opens the door carefully, so it doesn't make a sound.

The crib is at the end of the bed, and Jack walks over silently to look down at his daughter. There’s enough light coming in through the window from the street lamp outside to cast a soft glow over the room.

Stella’s face is smooth with sleep—she’s serene, beautiful, so utterly tiny in real life that Jack can hardly believe it. He just stares down at her, unmoving. After a minute or two, Bitty comes up behind him and wraps an arm around his waist.

They stand there together for an indeterminate amount of time, just watching her and breathing together. Jack can’t believe how lucky he is.

Then Stella opens her eyes.

Bitty immediately tenses—Jack can feel the _don’t cry, don’t cry_ radiating off of him—but amazingly, Stella doesn’t make a sound.

“ _Salut, p’tite_ ,” Jack whispers, unable to help himself. She’s already awake, anyway.

She just stares back at him. At her age, only a few weeks, she's too young to smile on purpose. Her face is smooth and almost expressionless as she looks up at them, just observing. Taking them both in. It seems like she spends an especially long time looking at Jack.

Her eyes are huge in her little pink face.

Jack can’t move. She’s evaluating him, and he’s irrationally afraid she’ll decide she hates him right then and there if he does the wrong thing. He knows that’s ridiculous. She’s just a baby—she’s not making lifelong decisions, here. All she’s doing is absorbing everything that’s going on, trying to make sense of it all. Storing it away until she can understand it.

He’s so proud of her already. She’s going to be _so smart._

He wouldn’t say that to anyone out loud, of course, because he knows he’d sound crazy. But he can tell. She’s brilliant and perfect and he loves her with everything he’s got.

After a while, she blinks, yawns, and then fully closes her eyes again. Clearly she’s decided she’s seen enough for now and it’s time to go back to sleep.

Jack finds that he agrees with her. It’s been a long day, and a long couple of weeks. He’s ready to go to sleep too.

Jack looks down at Bitty. Mouths, _Bed?_

Bitty nods, and they untangle from each other. Jack creeps out of the room to grab his bag from downstairs. He drops it off in Bitty’s room, changing into shorts and a t-shirt to sleep in and taking his toothbrush into the bathroom across the hall.

Bitty’s in there too, spitting out his mouthwash just as Jack enters.

He leans against Jack sleepily while Jack brushes his teeth. After he finishes and rinses his mouth out, Bitty catches his eye in the mirror.

“So?” he asks quietly, the hushed atmosphere from watching Stella still lingering around them. Jack is grateful that Bitty feels it too, that he doesn’t break it by speaking at a normal volume. “How do you feel?”

Jack looks over their reflection as he thinks about it. Bitty’s face is tired but happy. He has dark circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling gently as he leans against Jack’s side. Jack’s playoff beard has grown in thick and dark. Tomorrow he’ll shave it off, but for now it makes him look older. More mature.

Together, in the mirror, they don’t look like the college kids that Jack sometimes still thinks of them as. They look like adults—like two people who could be parents. Who might be ready for something like that.

Jack takes a deep breath, trying to find a word to answer Bitty’s question.

“Perfect,” he says, eventually. “I feel perfect.”

In the mirror, Bitty smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [fragilehuge](http://fragilehuge.tumblr.com) (main) and [jacksbits](http://jacksbits.tumblr.com) (check please stuff). Come say hi!


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